


tell me how it's lookin' babe

by stevenstamkos



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Improper use of underwear, M/M, Panty Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 07:35:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8154253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stevenstamkos/pseuds/stevenstamkos
Summary: It definitely wasn’t him looking at women’s underwear. Which means it was probably Nate. And Nate’s exactly the kind of person who wouldn’t clear his browser history or use incognito for stuff like this.But if Nate has a kink that Jo doesn’t know about...Jo eyes the lingerie on the screen. (or: Jo gets Nate a little surprise. Nate is, unsurprisingly, really into it.)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thinmints](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thinmints/gifts).



> I've never considered writing this kink before, but I was reading Lecavayay's [Be a Lady and a Freak, oh](http://archiveofourown.org/series/294443) series. Anyway this is for you, Elise. This is quite possibly the kinkiest thing I've ever written, yikes.
> 
> Barely implied Tyler Johnson/Ondrej Palat/Nikita Kucherov, also inspired by Lecavayay's series.
> 
> Title from "Yoncé" by Beyoncé

Jo finds out by mistake.

He’s on Nate’s laptop in bed alone, trying to hunt down an Amazon link that he’d had open for a few days. Nate had exited out of the entire browser this morning, the idiot, instead of closing out of the tab like a normal person.

There are, well, a lot of Amazon links in their browser history. Jo scans the links, but the letters and numbers don’t mean much. He clicks one at random.

It brings him to a page selling soft, powder-blue women’s underwear. They’re sheer and lacy and look like they’d barely hold anything in. Jo almost chokes on his breath.

When he scrolls down, the _Recently Viewed_ section jumps out at him. There are about a dozen pieces of lingerie that someone viewed on their laptop recently.

Everything’s very tasteful, all elegant designs in striking colors, lots of lace and silk. Jo feels his eyebrows rise.

It definitely wasn’t _him_ looking at women’s underwear. Which means it was probably Nate. And Nate’s exactly the kind of person who wouldn’t clear his browser history or use incognito for stuff like this.

Jo’s not...he’s not into weird shit, okay? They’ve had some pretty wild sex, like up against walls and in NHL arenas and bent over all sorts of surfaces. (Once, Nate had fucked him over the grill at his house in Cole Harbor, the grill still warm along his front, his jeans shoved down just enough to give Nate access to his ass. It’d been fantastic and exhilarating, knowing that anyone could look out the south windows of Nate’s house and see them, or anybody passing by and looking over the fence. Jo had come in his pants and banged his elbow on the hand-crank and it was still some of the best sex he’d had, and it all started just because Nate had looked so good grilling steaks in a sweaty tee and backwards snapback.)

Fact of the matter is though, they’re not...they haven’t really tried anything _freaky_ in the bedroom. And this is definitely freaky.

But if Nate has a kink that Jo doesn’t know about...

Jo eyes the lingerie on the screen, hesitantly clicks through some of them. They’re very beautiful, he has to admit, and he’s not sure if Nate was looking at them with _him_ in mind, but if there’s the chance...well, Jo probably wouldn’t say no.

But who buys underwear on Amazon, anyway? Jo opens another tab and quickly googles Victoria’s Secret. He’s no expert on women’s lingerie, but they sell that sort of stuff, right? He’s instantly bombarded with everything from bras to perfumes. The panty section is easy to find though, and there’s a whole selection there, looking all tempting (and kind of expensive, holy shit).

In the end, he settles on a pair of deep blue (Lightning blue, his mind helpfully supplies) silk panties, modestly cut but with plenty of lace on the edges. He feels hot with embarrassment and secret pleasure when he hits Purchase.

He also erases his Internet history, because he’s not Nathan.

 

 

Jo’s forgotten all about the panties by the next week, which is why it’s a huge surprise when he comes home to find a small cardboard box waiting for him outside his door. He doesn’t remember his purchase until he’s opening the box to find a pink and red striped box with _Victoria’s Secret_ written on the front in curling gold letters. That’s when it hits him, and he drops the entire box on the ground.

After a second or two to marvel at the fact that he actually _bought women’s underwear_ , that he’s got it in his apartment right now, he picks up the package and takes the box out. Inside, his purchase is laid in a bed of pink tissue paper. There’s a little bow on the front, just underneath the waistband. Jo doesn’t remember it being there in the online picture, but he’s not complaining. It’s kinda cute.

In the bedroom, he hesitates. It might be exciting to try them on now, but it would also be really fucking weird. Nate’s not going to be back for another few hours and he has plenty of time to experiment, but Jo doesn’t think he can try on the panties without feeling completely foolish. He stows the box in the back of his closet and forgets about it.

 

 

When the offseason’s over and he’s moving back to Tampa, he throws the box (carefully!) into his suitcase. Just in case.

He covers it with a few layers of clothes. That’s just in case too.

(It moves from the back of his closet in Montreal to the back of his closet in Tampa.)

 

 

The Avs @ Bolts game this season happens to fall right around Valentine’s Day. It’s not perfect, but it’s close enough that Jo figures after the game he’ll go out for dinner with Nate and do something nice. And then they’ll come home and do something extra sexy, partly for the holiday and partly because Skype sex can’t really make up for real sex, and he’s starved for Nate’s touch.

He’s panicking on the eve of the game thinking about how he’ll make the night extra special for his boyfriend when he remembers the panties.

Jo brings them with him to the game. He’d rather not, but he’s not going to have time to stop by his apartment before dinner reservations with Nate. There’s also a part of him that thrills at the idea of carrying them around in his bag.

When the game’s over (Tampa wins in the shootout, which is always nice, but it shouldn’t have even gone to the shootout in the first place), Jo rushes through his shower and hurries to his bag in his stall to make sure the box is still there. He knows a few of the guys like to pull pranks sometimes, and it’d be weird finding women’s underwear in a Victoria’s Secret box in his game day bag. It’s still there, and he pulls it out partway to admire the gold lettering on the front.

“Got something there, Jo?” Killer jokes, bumping shoulders with him. Jo flushes, shoves the box deep into his bag.

“It’s nothing.”

Johnny’s wrestling his arms into his button-up. “What’d he have, Killer?” he asks.

“Looked like a pink box.” Killer smirks at Jo, and Jo feels his stomach swoop.

“You buy your girl something nice?” Johnny’s eyes are mischievous. He tries to get a look, but Jo’s shoving the bag away from him. This plays right into Johnny’s hands though, because Pally swoops in from Jo’s other side and plucks the bag up. He has the box out in a heartbeat, and the the lid is off in another second.

Killer whistles. “Damn, Jo. That is one _nice_ gift. Bet whoever you got it for is gonna love it.”

 _He is_ , Jo thinks dizzily. _At least, I hope he’s gonna love it. On me._

Kuch wanders by, catches sight of the panties nestled in their little box, and stops dead. His head cocks, and then a look of understanding dawns on his face. He gives Jo a cool blue-eyed look, and Jo flushes. Okay, so he’s not hiding anything from Kuch.

(He sort of remembers one drunken night, babbling to Kuch about having an amazing boyfriend while the Russian fed him first what must’ve been straight rubbing alcohol and then later on water.)

Jo doesn’t think he’s imagining the way Johnny eyes the panties with interest, then flicks a shy look at Pally with equal interest. Pally’s very quiet, holding the box. He looks at Johnny, then at Kuch, flushes a little, lowers his lashes. Oh. _Oh._

Pally carefully closes the box and hands it and the bag back without saying anything, and then the three of them are disappearing out the door of the dressing room. Kuch is muttering something in Russian to himself as he goes, and Johnny’s hurrying the three of them along.

Killer’s still leering a little. “Who’s the lucky lady?”

Jo collects his voice again. “Uh, it’s a secret?”

“Killer leave Jo alone!” Stammer yells from across the room. Any gratitude Jo might feel evaporates as Stammer goes on. “He probably bought it so he feels less like a loser when he goes home alone tonight.”

Killer’s smile is instantly sympathetic, and he slings an arm around Jo’s bare shoulder. “Awww, no lady friend for you, Jo?”

“Oh, shut up.” As far as comebacks go, it’s really weak, but Jo doesn’t really know what to say. It’s kind of hard to explain.

“It’s okay Jo, maybe next year you’ll have more than just your hand to keep you company.” Bish slaps his back on his way past, and Jo glares at his huge suit-clad figure as it disappears out the dressing room door.

Eventually, the guys stop teasing him and he’s able to grab his stuff and disappear into a bathroom stall to change. It’s not his usual method, too many years changing in front of teammates to really make him shy of his body, but tonight’s special. There’s no way he can explain what he’s about to do to any of the guys still hanging around.

The silk’s pristine when he lifts it from the box, and it feels weird—almost like liquid—against the skin of his legs as he pulls it on. It’s different than wearing briefs. Jo’s never been so aware of such soft material cupping his dick, and it’s a surprising turn-on. The back barely covers half his ass, not made for male hockey players.

The suit goes on over the panties, and when he steps out of the stall, he looks normal, he thinks. A quick look in the mirror confirms this. Light stubble, hair fluffing as it dries—he runs a hand through it—but there’s the beginning of a flush on his cheeks as he feels his dick swell a bit with every step he takes. The way the silk is dragging against him is really distracting.

By the time he meets Nate at the restaurant, Jo’s halfway hard, and he’s thankful that the panties are doing a pretty good job of hiding that. They’re tight, not uncomfortably so, but enough to give him satisfying pressure where he needs it.

“Hey.” Nate presses a quick kiss to his mouth, smooths down his tie for him. “You look good.”

“You too.” Jo scoots away from him, trying to make it look like they’re just two guys going out for dinner together. As friends. Just bros being bros. The last thing he wants is for Tampa media, normally lowkey about Bolts’ players lives, to uncover his secret relationship with his ex-teammate.

But Nate really does look good, his button up accentuating the breadth of his shoulders, his slacks hiding nothing. Jo wants to bite his shoulders, wants to grab his ass, wants to fuck.

Nate grabs his elbow and leads him into the restaurant, and Jo goes.

It’s—Well, it’s an interesting meal. Jo barely knows what he’s eating, can hardly taste his steak. He has no idea what Nate’s talking about, and he feels a little bad for that, but the fucking panties—they’re torturous, soft silk rubbing up against him, and he’s getting all worked up from the feeling.

“Jo, you okay?”

Jo forces himself to make eye contact with Nate—his cheeks feel like they’re burning—and says, “Oui.” Nate’s pupils dilate a little at the French, and his concerned hand on Jo’s knee moves up a little, stroking with intent over Jo’s thigh.

They rush through the rest of dinner. Nate doesn’t ask Jo any more questions about how he’s feeling, and Jo’s happy to not say anything about his little surprise. He’s squirming a little in his chair though, unable to resist making tiny movements that cause the silk to drag against his cock.

Nate drives them to Jo’s apartment, one hand on Jo’s thigh, the other on the wheel. Normally Jo’s a bit pissy about people driving his car, but he’s breathing in soft pants right now, already so worked up he’s sure he only needs a few good seconds of stimulation to get off. Nate shoots him a look out of the corner of his eye, moves the hand on his thigh up to his crotch and rubs lightly. Jo sucks in a breath. It feels incredible, almost better than when Nate’s got a bare hand on him. He makes a soft choked-off sound, and he can see Nate smile.

They can’t get inside the door fast enough. Jo’s entire body is buzzing, his hands shaky with desire as he watches Nate turn the locks. The second Nate turns back around, Jo’s on him, shoving him against the door and pressing his mouth to Nate’s in a bruising kiss.

If Nate’s surprised at all at how desperate Jo is, he doesn’t show it, just starts enthusiastically kissing him back and sliding a muscled thigh between his legs. Jo takes this as an opportunity to grind against Nate’s hip, riding his leg and gasping into his mouth. Everything feels so good he’s almost dizzy with how much he wants.

“What’s got you so worked up?” Nate pants.

Jo bites his lip aggressively and grinds down harder. His grip on Nate’s shoulders is wrinkling the fabric of his nice button up, but neither of them really care.

Nate must give up on questioning Jo and decide that he’s totally on board, because his hands fall to Jo’s ass and begin a thorough grope. That brings him dangerously close to the panties, only one layer of cotton separating Nate from his little surprise, and Jo tears his mouth away so he can bite at the line of Nate’s jaw.

“So desperate, Jo,” Nate whispers as he traces the waistband of Jo’s slacks. “Love seeing you like this, wish I could have you like this all the time.”

Jo muffles a whimper against Nate’s throat, hips working.

Nate’s hand dips under the edge of his pants, and the second his fingers touch silk, he freezes and pulls back. Jo whines at the loss of contact.

There’s a look of curious wonder of Nate’s face as he swaps their positions, pressing Jo back against the door. His hands are a little shaky as he undoes Jo’s belt, and he looks almost afraid as he slides Jo’s pants down slowly to reveal the lacy blue silk, the front damp and dark where Jo’s been leaking into the material all night. When Nate sees it, he groans, low and hurt-sounding in the back of his throat.

He’s on his knees in an instant, pressing his face to Jo’s bulge. “Fuck,” he breathes, and Jo moans at the feel of warm breath on damp silk. “ _Fuck, Jo, fuck_.” Nate bites at the little bow on the front, runs a tongue over the damp spot, and mouths hungrily at Jo’s dick through the panties.

Jo lets out a breathy whine, lets his head thump back against the door. “ _Nate_.” It feels so good, so damn good, better than anything Jo’s ever felt before. The silk’s enhancing the feeling of Nate’s mouth on him, and Jo doesn’t think he could really handle much more. His legs feel wobbly already, and he puts a hand on Nate’s head to steady himself.

Nate’s busy getting the whole front of his panties wet, sucking on his cock, tonguing his silk-covered balls. He brings a hand up, petting Jo through the material, sliding back to rub mercilessly at his hole. Jo can’t hold back the high desperate sounds he’s making, knows Nate loves them anyway. “Fuck, oh fuck, Nate, nngh, like that.” Between his legs, Nate’s pressing open-mouth kisses to Jo’s dick, sometimes shifting the lace to the side a bit to get a tongue on Jo’s bare skin before letting the silk cover him again. It’s driving Jo wild, and he can’t do anything more than bury his hands in Nate’s short hair and gasp for breath.

Nate gets him off like that, mouth on his cock and fingers rubbing at his hole, the silk making everything hotter, wetter, and a thousand times more sensitive. Jo comes in his new panties, probably ruining them, and he’s doubled over at the waist, braced against the door and Nate and still feeling like he’s falling.

“Jo,” Nate whispers, and Jo whimpers a little at the feel of Nate’s lips nuzzling at his spent cock. “Holy shit, that was so hot.”

Jo considers answering, thinks he should probably say something, but it feels like his brain’s melted out of his ears or something. He lets Nate half walk half carry him into his bedroom, and then he’s being shoved gently onto the bed, and Nate’s efficient hands are tugging off his shoes and the pants shoved halfway down his thighs. Nate reaches up to unbutton his shirt and his mouth follows his hands, mapping a trail from Jo’s throat down his stomach.

“So beautiful, Jo, can’t believe I get to have you,” Nate murmurs into the skin of his abs. Jo’s regained enough muscle control to squirm out of his button up and jacket, tossing everything over the side of the bed. Nate’s mouth lands on his neck again, and he arches his throat to give him access.

As Jo begins undressing Nate, Nate fumbles for the lube, still sucking marks onto Jo’s neck and across his chest. He smacks the lube off the beside table and growls, has to let go of Jo to retrieve it from the floor. Jo laughs at him.

“Take your eyes off me for two seconds, eh?”

“Don’t wanna.” Lube in hand, Nate settles back between Jo’s legs and returns to the very serious task of marking him up. Jo can’t help losing his breath at how good it feels, every single time.

“The guys are going to see those tomorrow,” he stutters out, but he’s not really complaining. Nate teases his nipples to hardness with his tongue and doesn’t answer, mouth preoccupied. Jo doesn’t have much time to worry before he’s completely distracted.

Nate pops the cap off the lube and Jo’s hands go to the panties to slide them off. Immediately, Nate’s hands are on his wrists, the lube forgotten between them. “Whoa, what are you doing?” he asks.

Jo gives him a look. “Taking these off, what does it look like?”

Nate shakes his head. “Keep them on.”

“What?”

“Keep them on. You look good. Gonna fuck you so hard in them.”

Jo swallows. That...isn’t how he thought the night would go, but it sounds hot. He doesn’t even mind that much that the front is sticky and wet with come.

It’s a bit difficult opening Jo up with the panties getting in the way, but Nate manages. Jo’s not sure how; he’s too busy whining and fucking himself back on Nate’s fingers, his own fingers twisting in the sheets and grabbing at Nate. Nate kisses his thighs, licks the center of the wet patch of dark blue.

“Nate, c’mon, fuck me,” Jo says, and he doesn’t care that his voice cracks embarrassingly in the middle in a way it hasn’t since puberty. “I’m ready. Nate, come on.”

Nate groans into the skin of Jo’s hip. “I’m trying to be careful,” he says.

“Was ready ages ago. _Fuck me_.”

Nate pulls his fingers out and shoves at Jo. “Roll over.” His voice is hoarse with want, and Jo shivers at the look of possessive heat in his eyes.

Once he’s on his hands and knees, he’s expecting Nate to come over, slide inside him, do _something_. Instead, Nate shuffles back a bit on the bed and just admires him, runs a lube-covered finger over the lacy edge, strokes his ass where the panties don’t cover it. Jo throws him an impatient look over his shoulder.

Nate kisses the skin at the base of his spine. “God, Jo, look at you. Didn’t know you had it in you to wear this, so fucking hot, gonna ruin you like this.”

“Yes, _please, please, now,_ ” Jo says, his voice going bossy. Nate’s grin is huge as he rolls on a condom and lubes his cock, pressing up behind Jo and holding the panties out of the way. Jo sighs at the the feeling of finally being filled.

“Good?” Nate whispers, draping himself over Jo’s back.

“Move already,” Jo says without much heat. He wiggles a little, can feel the panties digging into his hip where they’re stretched tight. Nate’s hot all around him, inside him, and he rocks back onto Nate’s dick. It’s fucking amazing.

Nate fucks him like that, carefully at first, then harder as Jo’s breathless demands are replaced with helpless cries. The panties shift with every thrust, and even messy, the feel of them dragging against his cock is enough to get Jo fully hard again. He’s sensitive this time, got hard again too fast, but he loves it anyway.

“Gonna come on my cock like this, Jo?” Nate pants, and Jo turns his head, tries to catch his lips. The angle’s not right though, and he whines in disappointment. Nate drops a kiss to his shoulders, reaches around to tweak a nipple. Jo moans.

“Touch yourself,” Nate says. His hips are stuttering, close.

Jo shakes his head. “Can’t,” he gasps out. His arms are shaking with the effort of holding himself up; if he takes any weight off either hand, he’s going to fall right over. Nate slides his hand from Jo’s chest down to his dick, his thick fingers working over him through the silk again, sliding against the wet fabric like it’s not completely filthy already with come. Jo lets his head hang between his ams, has to press his mouth to his bicep, breathe raggedly against his own skin to anchor himself.

“Nate,” he groans, and Nate rubs faster, squeezing and stroking and it’s too much, the hot drag of Nate’s dick inside him, Nate’s hand on his covered cock, the material bunching and rubbing up against his hole every time Nate withdraws. Jo can feel a tightening in his gut and he bites his lip, squeezes his eyes shut.

“Don’t.” Nate’s voice is strangled, but he fights to get the words out. His other hand comes up to pet clumsily at Jo’s mouth. “Wanna hear you.”

Jo barely has time to unclench his teeth before he's coming again and adding to the mess in his underwear. Behind him, he’s distantly aware of Nate grabbing his hip and grinding in deep for a long moment before collapsing on his back. Jo’s arms give out.

They lay there in lazy post-orgasmic bliss for a few seconds before Jo starts shoving at the weight draped over him. “Geroff, heavy,” he mumbles into the pillow in his face.

Nate rolls to the side, slides out of him and disposes of the condom and rearranges the back of the panties so they’d look presentable if they weren’t already covered in spit and come and lube. He slaps Jo’s ass through the silk and Jo grunts.

“That was great,” Nate says, conversational. Jo can’t believe him. He’s trying to sleep here, and Nate wants to start a conversation. He cracks open an eye, turns his head and glares at his boyfriend. Nate rolls him so he’s on his side and snuggles up along his front, tucks Jo’s face into his neck. “I’m serious, that was a really nice surprise.”

“Glad you liked it.”

Actually, now that Jo’s a bit less comatose, the tacky feeling of come cooling against his dick isn’t that great. He peels the panties off, takes one look at them, and tosses them over his shoulder onto the floor. “Dude, you fucking made me ruin them,” he groans into Nate’s shoulder.

“Can’t you just toss them in the laundry?”

“Fuck no, did you see them? Completely ruined.” The stains definitely aren’t coming out of the silk. It’d probably take eight or nine cycles just to get them clean.

Nate’s face is fond and sleepy. “Worth it.” He runs a hand down Jo’s back, presses his face into Jo’s hair. “Totally worth it.”

“I liked those.”

“I’ll buy you another pair. I liked them too.”

 

 

Jo comes home a week later to find another package waiting on his doorstep. Inside are a pair of lacy panties in Colorado burgundy.

 

**Author's Note:**

> _And then Jo teaches Nate how to erase his Internet history. Or at least like, use Incognito_   
> 


End file.
